


15 Days of YGO Flash

by RyuuNoYuki



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Brotherly Love, Demisexual Kaiba, Flash Fiction, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Genderqueer Jounouchi, Humor, Japanese Culture, M/M, Nightmares, Violetshipping, exercises, puppyshipping - Freeform, tiny dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-07 08:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15215216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuNoYuki/pseuds/RyuuNoYuki
Summary: I’ve had a bad bout of writers block lasting more than three months now. I’m attempting to get over it by forcing myself to write something coherent and YGO-related for 15 days in a row. This is asking a lot of me. We’ll see how it goes.





	1. Morning in America [Kaiba Bros]

**Author's Note:**

> _in which the Kaiba brothers have work to do_

Seto emerged from the hotel suite bathroom with a towel around his shoulders and spotted his little brother in the kitchenette, already dressed, figuring out how to turn on the electric tea kettle.

Although Seto would never concede to needing something as disruptive as a vacation in his life, he acknowledged Battle City had been an exhaustive drain on his resources and grudgingly admitted both of them needed some down time. For that reason, he was allowing himself to take this business trip at a slower pace. He paused in the doorway and watched as the small figure pulled things from cupboards he needed: a box of tea bags, mug, spoon, a white bottle from the small fridge. When the electric kettle clicked off he poured hot water into the cup and dropped the tea bag in, then lifted the white bottle and poured a more than generous amount.

“Having some tea with your hot cream today?” Seto asked dryly, finally coming over to join his brother. He eyed the contents of the cup on the counter, the liquid opaque white with only the faintest tint of brown curling from the tea bag.

“My hot cream is fine just the way it is,” Mokuba retorted as he stirred, reaching out with his free hand and pulling a second coffee mug from the cupboard, turning it right-side up and passing it to his brother.

Seto made a noise that expressed appreciation and almost constituted a full word, distracted with pouring the ready brown-black bitterness from the coffee pot on the counter into his cup.

The younger Kaiba took his mug over to the span of windows that made up most of one wall of the hotel suite, showing off the sprawling Californian city below. It was different enough from Domino to be interesting, but he could still identify all the normal running parts of a city–school buses, people in suits hailing taxis with to-go cups in hand, a guy holding the leashes of at least six dogs heading for the green patch of park two blocks over.

Even this early in the morning, Mokuba practically vibrated with excitement. Bringing Kaibaland to America! It was like a shining reward after a marathon. Even with the way Battle City had ended, they still had this goal. They were still following their dreams. That was proof enough for Mokuba that nothing could ever stop them.

He turned and found his brother still standing in the kitchenette, wearing only sweats and a towel, staring at the cup in his hands with an impassive face. That was weird. It wasn’t usual for Seto to stand around. “ _Nii-sama_ ,” he prompted. Blue eyes blinked and re-focused. Mokuba made an eager gesture with the hand holding his tea, sloshing it over the side and onto his hand. “Get dressed! We have work to do!” He transferred his mug to his other hand so he could suck spilled tea off his fingers.

Seto’s lips twitched into a smile. His brother did not say “work” the way a man said it as he got into his car, to go to his office and sit at a desk for most of the waking hours of his day. Mokuba said the word like it was an adventure.

Seto turned to go get dressed.


	2. Morning in America Part 2 [Kaiba Bros]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Mokuba has fun on the way to work_

Their limo was waiting for the Kaiba brothers as they exited the hotel. The driver standing beside it was female. She wore the same suit as all the Kaiba Corp drivers, the same dark shades hiding her eyes, her brown hair pulled into a bun at the nap of her neck. She wordlessly opened the back door when they approached and Mokuba darted forward to pile in before his brother. Hiding a grin, he checked quickly to make sure the window divider between the front and back was down as she shut the door behind them.

He waited until the vehicle had started up and pulled away from the hotel before he made his move.

The driver’s eyes widened comically behind her shades as Mokuba clambered over the partition without forewarning, wiggling his way into the front passenger seat like a striped eel. “Ah!? Um, what are you doing, um, sir!” she gasped in fumbling Japanese, which made Mokuba want to crack up. The Kaiba Corp drivers in Japan never objected no matter what he did, but the American woman hadn’t even hesitated to blurt out in a voice caught halfway between confusion and alarm. It was pretty funny.

He saw her dart a beseeching look at Seto in the rear-view mirror but Mokuba knew his brother was already on his phone, working, and wouldn’t look up. No rescue for her there. Hesitantly she returned her gaze to Mokuba. He blinked at her innocuously.

“Your Japanese is pretty good,” he said to her in perfect English. “Is that why you got this assignment?”

Now her panicked expression was turning into a calculating one. She shot him a sharp look over the top of her shades, recovering swifter than he thought she would. “Yup. Put your seat belt on,” she replied, still in Japanese, refusing to copy him. She added, “Sir.”

Mokuba laughed and put it on. Then he leaned forward and jabbed a finger at the radio until it spilled out a rock song with a fast kick drum beat.

“Do you like theme parks?” he demanded, voice raised to be heard over the music. He kept to English, because two could play at that game. He put his feet up on the dash to see if she would tell him to put them down.

The type of shades Kaiba Corp security and drivers wore were supposed to be for hiding their expressions, but Mokuba was right next to her and was good at reading people’s faces. She was cautiously interested in the question. “Of course,” she said. “Who doesn’t?”

“Some people don’t,” he replied promptly. “They get really freaked out ‘cuz it’s an intense environment. There’s even a term for it. Coasterphobia.” With his captive audience unable to escape, Mokuba took full advantage and outlined the current project for Kaibaland he had been working on. He needed a third opinion. Seto already said it was good, but Seto always said his ideas were good.

“I think we can design a more subdued area for people to feel safe when they’re overwhelmed. An area of the park that’s calmer, where people can go to recoup. I’ve been researching it.”

The driver’s lips twitched as he spoke and Mokuba’s eyes narrowed. He watched her carefully, waiting for her response. He knew that look. That was the look of someone who thought he was being cute. Just because he was eleven, sometimes using words like 'research’ set people off. If she said anything about him at this moment that included the word adorable, he was going to have to regretfully blacklist her from his mental list of cool Kaiba Corp workers. Which would be a shame, since having the ability to talk back to him had already put her pretty high on the list.

She recovered swiftly and nodded instead. “That’s a cool idea,” she said.

Mokuba relaxed. “Thanks.” Then he grinned. “I have more of them. You can be our driver tomorrow too, right?”

“Of course, sir. But get your sneakers off the dash.”


	3. Push Your Luck [Jounouchi]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Jounouchi is, once again, in trouble during a card game…_

Under the glare of stadium lights and the pressure of a crowd with all eyes on him, Jounouchi Katsuya sweated. The field before him was bare save for two lone monsters, standing face to face. Suddenly a beam of light lit up the arena between them. The caricature of a tiny demon with bat-like wings and a pointed hat coalesced in the air. Giving a cackle like the crackling of electricity, a giant die dropped from its hands.

“Come on, come on!” Jounouchi hissed under his breath. The background murmur of the crowd faded away, either the anticipation quieting them or simply because his focus had narrowed to nothing else except the image of that holographic die propelled across the arena floor. The Solid Vision program was as perfect as always–the sheen of the overhead lights reflecting off the glossy sides, the sharp clack each time it met the floor and bounced to roll again. He even imagined he felt the vibration through his shoes as it struck the ground.

As it always seemed to when he played a gamble, time felt like it slowed. Jounouchi’s eyes ached with how hard he was staring. It felt like something sharp was pressing against the center of his forehead. His entire concentration bore down upon the cube, unable to blink, waiting for it to come to rest, pleading silently. _Come on, come on…_

The die skipped and spun. Finally it slowed, unrealistically teetering on an edge between two numbers. Jounouchi sucked in a breath between his teeth and held it until the die finally came to a full stop.

Five.

“YES!” whooped the teen, throwing both hands in the air in victory as the sound of the roaring crowd came back into focus with an almost audible snap. His hands were empty, all his cards on the field in a last ditch effort to pull out a win. Jounouchi leaned back and enjoyed the sight of his opponent’s monster shrinking in ATK points, then disappearing in a pixelated cloud under the swing of Swordsman of Landstar’s blade.

“Jounouchi-kun!”

The familiar voice cut through the cheering of the audience and Jounouchi eagerly turned to see his friends approaching, his best friend in the lead. Suddenly Yugi skidded to a halt, forcing Anzu and Honda to do the same. Worry painted itself over the other duelist’s elated features for some reason unknown to the blond. “J-Jounouchi-kun? Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine, Yugi! Fine!” This wasn’t the first time after a hard duel he had a fierce headache, sure, but only because it took so much effort to concentrate and be on edge for such an extended length of time.

Despite Jounouchi’s assurances, the violet eyes of his friend continued to morph from concern to a simmering panic. The small form leaped forward, sprinting toward him.

Suddenly hazy, Jounouchi put a hand to his head. He felt wetness on his upper lip and quickly swiped his hand down from his temple to under his nose, pulling back his hand and feeling a sting of shock when he found it slashed with red. His nose was bleeding.

The hot lights of the arena dimmed in his vision as Jounouchi hit his knees.


	4. It’s All in the Wrist [Jou/Kaiba]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which I use an established Pup/Violetshipping relationship to just make scenes of cute snarking, what else?_

Jounouchi’s lanky form had become a familiar one to find slouching down the hallways of the Kaiba mansion, looking for the current hiding place of the elusive CEO or his younger brother. Though he was learning the layout of the halls and wings, rarely ending up in the garage without meaning to anymore, the place continued to hold some surprises. Like now, when the blond finally figured out which home office Kaiba was using today and poked his head in the room only to instantly regret it, as something small and quick spend past his face much too close. Close enough that he felt the wind of its passing and automatically flinched back.

Jounouchi’s gaze tracked sideways, following the flow of air to see what had almost impacted with his face. His eyes widened to find a single standard playing card–the ace of diamonds, specifically–embedded in a dart board that had been hung on the wall beside the door.

The card still quivered with the force that had caused the projectile to shoot across the room and lodge there.

Said force was seated at his desk, leaning back in the office chair and holding a deck of playing cards in his left hand. He held a single card in his right hand, raised as if to throw, but had paused in the middle of the motion.

Jounouchi was not really impressed with how close he came to getting a card to the face. “What are you doing?” he demanded, huffing. “Are you… practicing card throwing?”

“Hn.” Rather than reply, Kaiba set down the deck and turned back to his computer. The sound of clicking filled the room.

Jounouchi pulled the card from the dart board and crossed to the desk. His fingers ran along the card’s edges, noting that it had been thrown with enough force that it hadn’t bent at all and were still in stellar condition. “You do this a lot?” he wondered, holding out the card.

Kaiba didn’t respond at first, then shrugged and accepted it, tossing it on top of the deck next to his keyboard. “You think I got good enough to disarm a gunman with a trading card without practice?”

Jou snorted a laugh. “Fair ‘nough. But you should probably move the board. I mean, with it next to the door like that, people coming in kinda become obstacles in your way, don’t they?”

Kaiba didn’t look up from his computer.

“Kaiba…” Jounouchi growled in warning.

“Did you have a purpose coming here other than disturbing my concentration?”

“Listen, you–-!”

~ ~ ~

Jounouchi had enough experience by now to be moderately successful in dragging Kaiba from his home office for a well deserved break. Later, when the CEO was otherwise engaged in another part of the mansion, Jounouchi snuck back to the office and found the deck where it had been left, on the desk next to the computer. With a grin the blond scooped up the cards and took up a stance in front of the desk, trying his hand at the CEO’s moves.

In moments cards littered the carpet. Between himself and the center of the room, anyway. Nowhere near the far wall. Jounouchi’s frustration grew as he tried different hand motions, none of which carried the cards near the dart board on the other side of the room. With a huff, Jounouchi glared down at the deck in his hand as if it was at fault.

“You are an idiot,” a voice announced from the doorway.

Jounouchi choked, cards flying from his hands to spread out in a red-and-white wave across the floor.


	5. Stormchasers [Yugi, Jou]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which I try my hand at a fantasy au even though I usually don’t like au fics… because dragons._

The massive creature’s head was raised skyward as its nostrils quivered, sampling air currents. Its long, sinuous form stood out against the purpling sky. Kabuki dragons, they were called. So named for the red markings on their faces, their wild manes, and the frill circling their neck like an ink-stained fan, all bringing to mind the dancers of that ancient art. Whatever the dragon scented on the wind caused its hackles to rise and it growled a warning out to the oncoming night.

Yugi had a perfect view of the creature from where he had ensconced himself for the evening. He took advantage of what little light was left to perch on a flat rock at the mouth of the cave where he had taken refuge from an afternoon rainstorm. From long practice he balanced a bound stack of paper on one knee and a small inkwell on the other, taking notes on the dragon’s form and movements, making sketches as it grumbled and swelled its breast to impress its as-yet unseen adversary.

“Oi, you!” A voice suddenly cut across the scenic wilderness, startling Yugi enough that he had to make a hasty grab for his inkwell to save his notes from a disastrous stain. His violet gaze darted around, trying to see into the lengthening shadows, wondering who else would be out here with dark so quickly approaching.

It wasn’t hard to spot the source of the shout. A tall, blond-haired youth was skidding down the embankment where Yugi had found the cave–more like a crack in the mountainside, really. His attention was not on Yugi at all but the Kabuki dragon. Yugi watched in open amazement as the teen fearlessly waved his arms in the air, trying to get the fifteen-foot long beast’s attention as he reached the bottom of the hill. “You! Yeah, you! Get outta here, you freakin’ salamander!” he shouted. “This ain’t your territory and you know it!”

The Kabuki dragon, if he noticed the tiny intruder, gave no sign. It did, however, notice the giant shadow that fell over it at that moment. With a squawk of panicked indignation, the Kabuki fled from its perch, barreling down the hillside and along the gully that separated the dragon’s perch from where Yugi had made impromptu camp. It did this because an even larger dragon was coming to land in the spot it had stood just moments before. Yugi’s jaw dropped and he scrambled to reclaim his quill, trying frantically to sketch the impressive Red Eyes in the fading light.

He completely forgot about the other male’s presence until he heard the blond snort to himself and announce, presumably to the long-gone Kabuki, “Well I tried to warn ya!”

Yugi tore his eyes from the sight of the majestic black-winged beast, just as the blond at the bottom of the slope turned enough to catch sight of the cave. "Oh!” His comically shocked expression answered Yugi’s question about whether or not the other had even known he was here. Immediately the tall youth started climbing back up the slope, toward the cave. A bright grin sat on his features. “Stormchaser, eh?”

Yugi’s face heated, hopefully unseen in the dusk. He always thought the term was a little foolish. Although, dragons did seem like forces of nature itself, and when they fought, it was easy to feel like you were caught on the edge of a lightning storm, or a hurricane, or a wildfire. Calling those who admired dragons and studied them Stormchasers wasn’t the worst term that could have caught on.

As the blond approached the cave entrance Yugi admitted that yes, he was, and gestured to the notes in his lap by way of explanation. “Heh, me too!” replied the taller teen, holding out his hand. “I’m Jounouchi.”

“Yugi,” the shorter male introduced himself, shaking the offered hand. He was about to ask what had brought Jounouchi to this particular part of the wilderness, but was distracted by the flaring jeweled eyes of the dragon on the opposite hill, starting to glow faintly like two rubies in the dark. It raised its sleek head and screeched.

A rumble and a flash of light from up above had Yugi peering up at the dark sky, wondering if the afternoon storm was returning. But there were no clouds that he could see blocking out the pinpricks of stars that were just starting to appear.

“Hey, you!” Yugi jumped as Jounouchi shouted yet again. The blond’s attention wasn’t on any dragon this time, but aimed upward. “Hey! You’re crazy! You’re gonna get yerself killed up there!”

Yugi followed his line of sight up, and up. He squinted, but a sudden flash of lightning lit the scene clearly, leaving flashing aftereffects across his vision. But he had seen in a moment the figure standing at the top of the rise. A tall brunette with a long white cloak whipping in the wind, his two arms raised upward as if beckoning, laughing a booming laugh as the largest dragon Yugi had ever seen descended toward the Red Eyes from the lightning-cracked sky.


	6. Objections [Jou/Kaiba]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Jounouchi is bored and has a cellphone_

Coming out hadn’t been as disastrous as Jounouchi used to think it would be, when he was younger. It helped to have the might of a giant corporation backing up your right to exist, but even he knew it had still been a calculated risk on Kaiba’s part. Most of Kaiba’s business blather went over his head, but enough had sunk in since they’d started spending time together that he realized the success of a business relied mostly on the public’s opinion of it.

But Kaiba forged ahead, unwavering, like he did with anything. Attending the Domino Pride Parade last year had shifted something in the CEO’s eyes; Jounouchi had seen it, and hadn’t been really surprised when Kaiba Corp announced they were funding the entire parade the following year. From there it was just a hop, skip and a jump to making their relationship an official announcement.

Jounouchi approved of all of it. Now he got to drop by Kaiba Corp after business hours and drag his boyfriend down the road to get hotpot for dinner without worrying about anything. Except how long it took Kaiba to actually leave the building.

The blond had an established plan for these situations. That plan involved ten minutes of silence, stretched out on the nominally comfortable couch in Kaiba’s office, on the off chance that the CEO was actually close to wrapping things up and getting out of there. After that, Step 2 was to start asking inane questions at regular intervals until it finally sunk into the Kaiba’s thick skull that he had non-work-related obligations tonight.

Kaiba was catching on to this method though, answering most of the questions tonight with a noncommittal grunt or peeved silence. Jounouchi needed a new twist. He pulled out his cellphone and opened up the browser app. He wondered if he could read outrageous headlines about the two of them to Kaiba until it drove him crazy enough to leave.

Instead of news articles, the search brought up a site he hadn’t checked out before. His thumbs swiped silently for a few moments, his movements unconsciously matching the clicking of the keyboard from the other side of the room. “‘Ey, Kaiba. Do you ever look at all this fan stuff online?”

“No.”

“Really? None at all? Not even, like, fan art of me and you?”

The sounds of the keyboard momentarily slowed, then resumed.

Jounouchi pounced on the hesitation. “Aha! You have!”

“Don’t be a moron. I know you aren’t doing anything with your life–-”

“Hey!”

“-–but I am a little too busy for that.”

“Sure, right.” But Jounouchi had won points for pulling the other teen into a discussion, and let the triumph be heard in his voice to get under Kaiba’s skin.

Yeah, it was a little creepy to see your face again and again on the cellphone screen in the different art styles. But a little confidence boosting, too.

“Man, why are people so obsessed with chains? S'weird,” he muttered to himself. Then he raised his voice. “I dare you, guess which one of us always gets drawn with devil wings and which one of us gets angel wings. I think the answer’s gonna surprise ya.” He peaked over to catch Kaiba’s face for a reaction.

Kaiba didn’t laugh, but his lips twitched. Stubbornly, he continued to type.

Jounouchi let him, tapping another link and scrolling through search results on a different site. After a while he cursed and tossed the phone at the couch cushion above his head. “That’s it!” he growled. “Can we call a press conference to point out that I’m 178 frickin’ centimeters? We’re basically the same height!”

“Hn,” came the distracted reply.

“I ain’t tuckin’ my head under your fricken’ chin unless I want a crick in my neck!”

Kaiba smirked again.

“And how come… hrm.” Jou narrowed his eyes as he reclaimed his phone and scanned the screen again. His lower lip dipped in displeasure. “How come in most of these pics, you’re always the one who looks like everything is his idea?”

Finally Kaiba barked out a full laugh. He shoved himself away from the desk, his chair rolling back with the force of it as he stood. The blue fire of his gaze fell on the other occupant of the room. “Come here,” he said.

Jounouchi gave in and grinned, not entirely sure what it was that had finally worn down the CEO’s resolve, but uncaring. He stood up and threw the phone over his shoulder without looking to see if it safely landed on the couch again. Dinner could wait.


	7. The Pre-Dawn Hours [Kaiba Bros]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which there is nightmares and tea_

The Kaiba mansion was large enough for three wings, yet the brothers’ bedrooms were in the same hall. Were, in fact, side by side.

It helped most on nights like this.

The darkness was still absolute, dawn and its promising light far away, when he woke with a muffled shriek, his own hand clenched into a fist with fingers pressed against his mouth in his sleep. For a moment the soft bed and the familiar bedroom shapes meant nothing. This was a foreign land to him. The shadows in the far corner of the room were giant robed figures striding toward him; he screamed.

It was hard to tell what was real when he was still dangling somewhere between unconsciousness and waking thoughts, but logically, a part of Mokuba knew time must be passing normally. Knew there must have been seconds ticking by as his brother woke and bolted from the other room and reached him, here. Yet it all seemed to happen in an instant. Seto appeared beside his bed, even as Mokuba was still sitting up, even as his shout still echoed off the pale blue walls.

Reality returned with a crash. It had been a nightmare, nothing real, and Seto had come when he needed him. Again.

A hand reached out as if to take his but then paused, hovering between their bodies, and Mokuba dropped his own hand still pressing against his chin quickly down to his lap. He was breathing hard, and his hair was in his face. He pushed it away to see properly.

When he had calmed and assured himself the shadows in the room were not moving, his brother asked quietly, “What was it?”

Mokuba’s head sunk several inches lower. “Helicopter,” he whispered, voice a wispy squeak. Nightmares were not real, he told himself.

In real life he hadn’t fallen.

Seto understood from the one word, and a shiver crossed his own shoulders. “…I have nightmares about that one too.”

The younger looked up at his brother in surprise. Seto straightened, gestured to the door with one hand. “Let’s go make tea.”

“But it’s the middle of the night.”

“Are you going back to sleep?” Mokuba quickly shook his head. “Then we should make tea.”

Regardless of what the rumors said at school, the Kaiba brothers did not have staff on call in their home 24/7, and certainly didn’t need anyone to help them make tea at three in the morning. The thick carpet quieted their slippered feet as they made their way downstairs to the kitchen. Mokuba kept his eyes down to follow the sight of his brother’s heels, trying not to look up. The shadows in the mansion sometimes moved at night, especially after nightmares.

In the kitchen, the overhead lights blasted the less rational thoughts away. The brothers moved with the ease of long familiarity as Mokuba slid onto a stool at the island and Kaiba went to fill the electric kettle. Whatever the mansion had been in its past, it was their home now. Including the shadows.

Mokuba rested his forehead against his crossed arms and allowed his brother to make his tea, only because Seto knew how to make it right. When it was ready he accepted the cup and pressed his face to the steam rising from the rim. He shot Seto a look of offended betrayal at the first sip. Chamomile. Seto returned the look placidly. Mokuba subsided when he saw the same tea in Seto’s mug and assured himself it wasn’t coffee.

They took their cups to the closest of the parlors, because it had a comfortable couch and a row of big bay windows that faced the east. They sat down side by side, Mokuba allowing his head to lean against his brother’s strong arm, and they didn’t bother trying to find something to talk about. It wasn’t clear to them which drifted off first, but dawn’s light found them together and woke them both with golden rays.


	8. Obon  [Yugi and gang]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which I exploit YGO to indulge my love of writing about Japanese culture_

The August sun had set two hours ago, but in Domino Park the air was still warm and the paths still filled with people. It felt like the entire city was in attendance for the last night of the three-day holiday, the ending of the festivities. Only families with very young children had left early, pushing strollers or carrying toddlers who had worn themselves out dancing and playing street vendor games.

The river that wound its way through Domino Park was the longest one in the city, and the breeze brushing against those people on its banks was a cool respite from the summer haze. More and more of the revelers joined those already standing by the water’s edge as the night wore on.

Privately, Yugi wished it was over already. He knew the first year was going to be hard, but he hadn’t expected to be so exhausted by the end of it. Wearing a smile to keep his grandpa and friends from worrying about him was only hard when it was so heavy, and for the past few days it had felt like the heaviest thing he had ever carried.

Gratefully, he knew he didn’t have to only rely on his own strength to move forward. The strength of his friends had carried him upright through Obon, the time of the year for remembering those who had passed on.

It was too soon. But then again, it would probably always feel that way.

With the night winding down, Yugi found himself relieved to be standing on the riverbank with his friends, all of them knowing there was only one last piece to complete. Anzu lifted the traditional small wooden boat with a tiny taper candle in the center that she had purchased earlier. “Jounouchi, did you bring it?”

The tall teen nodded. “Sure, I-–” Jounouchi stuck both hands in his pockets and then suddenly froze, a comically worried expression crossing his face. Honda, standing next to him, rolled his eyes and pulled a matchbook from his pocket and wordlessly held it out. The blond grinned sheepishly and took it.

Jounouchi held the matchbook in his fingers and he flipped one out, the small light blossoming between his fingertips. Anzu held out the boat, steadying it while Jounouchi lit the candle, then she solemnly put the paper lantern on top and handed the boat to Yugi.

He hesitated. For a moment the four friends shared a look, a not unfamiliar expression that had started to pass between them in the past months. A little smile that was both hopeful and sad. Something unspoken that confirmed for each of them: _I know, I feel the same._

Then the small teen turned and knelt, setting the boat on the water’s edge. The river’s quiet current caught it after a few moments, like it did all the others. The dotted lights moved in slow procession away from the riverbanks and downstream, slow but inevitably heading away.

Yugi straightened, his friends close enough that he could feel their warmth against his back.

It was a little strange, watching Atem’s lantern float on the water. If Yugi hadn’t been staring at it so hard, it would have been lost among all the others from everyone else, all looking just the same. Atem’s was just one tiny light in a sea of lights, just one soul in a river of souls.

“Sometimes when I’m walking down the street, I think that each person I walk by his also lost someone,” Anzu said quietly. Yugi looked at her in surprise, that she would say something so close to what he had been thinking just at that moment. She gave him a little smile. “Sometimes it helps.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes it doesn’t,” Jounouchi muttered softly from behind her shoulder. His head was tipped down, letting his shaggy bangs fall across his eyes. Yugi’s smile softened. Honda put his hand on Jounouchi’s shoulder and instead of shrugging it off, the blond raised his own hand and covered it.

They left the river and the throngs of people lingering there and chatting, and it felt like another few degrees drop in temperature, like something eased in the air and made breathing lighter. Before long the four friends reached the exact spot on the sidewalk where they all knew was the place they would go their own ways, four homes lying in separate directions. Yugi bid goodnight to his friends and gently refused when they volunteered to walk with him to the game shop. Then, alone, his tired feet turned home.


	9. A Poor Synonym [Bakura and gang]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which I attempt to write something for Bakura even though I’m bad at it :P_

_“Alone. Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.” –- Stephen King_

“What’re you reading, Bakura?”

The pale-haired boy stiffened, taken by surprise, but didn’t yelp or drop his book like he would have in the past. His eyes darted up to see the figure looming over him, the presence unnoticed with how focused he was on the book in his hands. His racing heart, used to jumping or starting in almost any situation, calmed immediately. “Honda- _kun_.” Bakura smiled. A lot had happened in his life, especially the last few years, but at least he could finally say that his last year of high school was feeling… stable.

 _Ah, not exactly a word a lot of high schoolers would choose as a positive description, is it?_ he thought to himself, a little sardonically.

Before Bakura could remember Honda’s question, the taller teen peered at the cover for himself. “Ste-phen King?” He tried to say the English name without stumbling and mostly succeeded. “One of those creepers you like to read?”

“An American,” he replied, nodding. “He’s really good!”

Honda’s lips formed their usual easygoing smile. It was a trait Bakura always counted on, when it came to Honda. Out of all the friends Bakura knew, Honda was reliable. “He must be. You didn’t even hear the bell ring for lunch.”

“Hmm?” Bakura looked around. The classroom was almost empty. Jounouchi and Yugi lingered by the doorway, most likely waiting for Honda to fetch him. “Ah, you’re right.”

“How’s that different than normal?” Jounouchi called at them from the door, overhearing their conversation thanks to the otherwise empty classroom.

“Can it, Jounouchi!” Honda shot back, more so out of his habit for rebutting the blond than for any actual need to defend Bakura, who still kept his quiet nature but was fully capable of defending himself these days.

“Bakura- _kun_ , want to eat with us today?” Yugi raised a hand to wave him to follow. Bakura assumed that was why Honda had interrupted him to begin with, but now the brunette and Jounouchi were arguing about a school assignment due tomorrow, having switched the argument mod-conversation as usual, and Yugi had filled in the gap.

It had been a while, but not so long ago that Bakura didn’t remember the times when he had often missed lunch altogether. The times when no one, not even a teacher, cared enough to force him to raise his head from a novel or a notebook, and he hadn’t noticed until the bell rang yet again to mark the end of the break period.

But that didn’t happen anymore.

“Coming!” he called to Yugi, placing a marker in his book and standing from his desk. Honda and Jounouchi followed behind, still loudly disagreeing on the assignment.

Yes. A poor synonym indeed.


	10. Pride [Jou/Kaiba]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Jounouchi talks Kaiba into coming with him to celebrate Pride_

“We’re going to be laaaate.”

Kaiba didn’t give an outward reaction, continuing to devote his sole focus to the computer screen on his desk. It was the best way to both aggravate the blond and remind him who was in control of the situation.

The reminder apparently worked so well that there was merciful silence for approximately thirty seconds. Which, really, was impressive for the _bonkotsu_ ; Kaiba acknowledged privately that he was most likely trying to the best of his abilities.

“Kaiba,” Jounouchi growled eventually.

The CEO lifted his eyes from the computer screen and gave the office’s other occupant a long look. He hadn’t bothered when the blond had noisily stormed in, so now was the first time he realized Jounouchi had dressed for the occasion. He wore white jeans, new enough that they hadn’t yet faded to an off-gray color, and a hoodie in the tri-tones of lavender, white, and green. No doubt the colors meant something for the event, though Kaiba didn’t know what and didn’t particularly care.

“Can we GO?” Jounouchi waved both arms toward the office door like he could corral Kaiba the way one would a spooked sheep. “It’s gonna be a mob already, and finding Yugi and Anzu’ll just be harder the longer we take ta get there.”

“Honda?” Kaiba questioned, curious despite himself.

“Working,” grunted the blond. “He’s pissed about it, but he couldn’t get the time off. And good job, are you remembering our names now?”

Kaiba snorted. It wasn’t hard to remember the names of Yugi’s friends. They inserted themselves into his life enough times. Admitting that would only encourage him.

He kept his expression neutral yet still felt the familiar prick of irritation as he stood up and moved around from behind his desk, and Jounouchi’s eyes sparked with triumph like a _bonkotsu_ playing a winning hand. In the past Kaiba would have been quick to lay into the blond, to verbally cut him down lest he think he had gotten the upper hand, but over time Kaiba had grudgingly come to realize the futility of such measures. Jounouchi would never change. You couldn’t drive him down or away, whether your weapon of choice was logic or insults or bribery. For that reason alone Kaiba had begun to put up with the blond’s company more often.

The Domino Pride Parade took up most of downtown, so they weren’t going to bother taking a vehicle, opting instead to walk the few blocks to the center of the activity. However, the consequence of that was finding safe topics of conversation that wouldn’t drive either of them up a wall or into a corner.

“Explain your outfit,” Kaiba said, when the silence had gone on too long and they were almost out of the Kaiba Corp building and out to the streets.

“Ah!?” Jounouchi looked floored at the question. Kaiba waited for him to recover. “D-do you really wanna know!?”

“Do you have reason to believe I would ask if I didn’t?” the taller teen snipped back.

“Well, I mean, I figured you didn’t really care about this sorta thing and you were just coming along because I wouldn’t stop askin’ ‘til you agreed.” The blond gave a weak version of his usual cheeky grin.

Kaiba didn’t answer that, instead just waited to see what the blond would say.

Jounouchi frowned, but the CEO recognized the expression as the one that he used when he was puzzling out what to say, not one that meant he was building up an angry retort. Finally Jounouchi shrugged, a 'here goes nothing’ sort of gesture. “You ever feel like, I dunno, like the options everyone else is workin’ with don’t really work for ya?”

Kaiba grunted, noncommittal.

“Well, that’s what it was like for me. I felt like that for a long time, like stuff that made sense to everyone else didn’t make much sense ta me. Pissed me off a lot. 'Specially when I was younger. Made me make a lot of bad choices. But since I learned about this stuff, these people, it all makes a lot more sense ta me.” He tipped his chin up a bit to peer at the CEO’s face. “You, uh, you care about any of that?”

Kaiba had the sudden realization that his opinion in this meant something to Jounouchi. It was an odd notion, to say the least. He decided he didn’t hate it. “I understand,” he said, though he wasn’t sure he did.

The blond gave a relieved laugh, and Kaiba decided he would learn.


	11. Pride Part 2 [Jou/Kaiba]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Kaiba learns_

It took the idiot blond exactly three minutes from their arrival to get himself lost.

They had barely reached the more crowded area of the city and forced to slow their walk, Jounouchi trying to remember where Yugi had said they’d meet them, when suddenly he yelled out, “Oh hey! Imori! Be right back, Kaiba. This’ll just take a sec.”

The CEO turned just in time to see the other duelist zipping down the sidewalk, one hand raised as he waved to someone up ahead. In a single moment the shifting, high-energy crowd had completely erased him from view.

Kaiba sighed.

He could deal with energetic crowds. He could deal with anything. That didn’t mean it was his favorite thing to do. He moved off to the side, hoping to get out of the flow of traffic. Being at least a head taller than a majority of the throng meant at least he was less likely to get knocked into. Finally he stopped with his back against a shop wall, under an awning. Most people trying to traverse the sidewalk stepped around the poles holding up the awning, which gave him a little breathing room.

“K-Kaiba- _san_?”

He knew the tone of someone spotting a celebrity, and turned his head to find an auburn-haired teenager had also picked this spot for a respite from the crowds. He was used to being recognized, either by duelists or just from television. He gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

She looked like she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. He hoped that would continue to be the case, but unfortunately she mustered her courage and said, “H-–would you… like-–?” Cheeks flushed pink, she reached into her purse and then held out a small aluminum pin, which he accepted only to look more closely at the design. Three horizontal stripes of white, purple and gray, with a black triangle. She wore a similar pin on her blouse. Kaiba had no idea what it meant, but wasn’t about to say so.

“Isn’t that presumptuous on your part?” he asked flatly.

The girl stuttered, her face turning a more embarrassed shade; Kaiba was already annoyed with the conversation. “I-I wouldn’t-–! It’s just for support,” she finished weakly. He didn’t respond, hoping to discourage her from continuing the conversation. She took the hint and inched away, back out into the crowd.

Kaiba scanned the passing people and still didn’t see the familiar shaggy blond hair. Resigned, he pulled out his cellphone and started research. If he had to wait, at least he would make the time productive. There were plenty of symbols and flags passing by in front of him to fuel his web search. Starting with definitions, then moving on to blog articles, he scrolled through rapidly, his blue eyes flicking over the text. After a while, Kaiba gave a soft, “Hn.” He put the pin on his jacket, and kept scrolling.

“Aha! Kaiba, there you are!”

At some point during his research, Jounouchi’s voice interrupted. Kaiba looked up and saw the blond making a beeline for his location, with Yugi and Anzu in tow. Somehow Kaiba wasn’t surprised. He was fairly sure there was some universal constant that made it impossible for their group to be separated for any extended length of time.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and crossed his arms in front of him. “Nice of you to come back. I was about to call the shelter and see if anyone turned you in.”

“Yeah stuff it.” Jounouchi, standing much too close as per normal, learned forward and poked Kaiba’s jacket with a grin. “Nice pin. If I thought you’d wear it, I woulda picked you up some merch.”

“Please resist your temptation to ‘pick me up’ anything. Ever.”

Jounouchi attempted to sputter out a return insult, but Yugi quickly spoke over him as he greeted the CEO. “Hello, Kaiba- _kun_!” he said cheerfully. “Are you enjoying it so far?”

“Hn.”

The next year, the Domino Pride Parade was entirely funded by Kaiba Corp.


	12. Hikari no Game [Yugi, Kaiba]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Atem is gone and Kaiba gets stuck picking up the pieces…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be a full fic later. I gots ideas...

For the initial few weeks no one really noted it. There was missed school work to catch up on, Jounouchi had picked up a new job, Anzu was working extra shifts to save up to see a popular play that had come to town.

Anzu realized it first, but she chose not say anything, content that it was part of the healing process. When it occurred to Jounouchi and he was about to ask she discreetly elbowed him, giving a brief shake of her head as he blinked at her cluelessly, and Yugi pretended he hadn’t seen the exchange.

So, ironically, it was not any of his close friends but Seto Kaiba who was the first to confront Yugi about the fact that he hadn’t played Duel Monsters since Atem left.

“I-I’m just taking a break, Kaiba- _kun_ ,” Yugi said evasively, shifting his weight, avoiding the taller male’s eyes.

“Hn.” Kaiba let the silence in the school hallway stretch, as if to emphasize the weak words, then he turned and walked away. Jounouchi made an irritated gesture at his retreating back, but Yugi just stared at the floor, his violet eyes betraying his distress.

~ . ~ . ~

_That weekend..._

The last time a Kaiba Corp limo had pulled up to the Kame Game Shop had been a lifetime ago. Before tournaments and God Cards and ancient horrors. His unannounced appearance could prove to be an issue, but Kaiba had a feeling that the handicap of forgiveness ran through the whole Mutou family line.

He told his bodyguard to remain outside the door with a single glance, and then entered. There was nothing wrong with his memory; the inside of the shop was as cramped as he remembered it to be. There was a single aisle down the center of the room, leading directly to the counter at the back, and shelves and glass cases covering every inch of wall space on either side.

The elderly man behind the counter gave Kaiba a look that was equal parts surprise and suspicion, so Kaiba’s estimation of his character rose a grudging notch. But then the features softened and he gave a small nod, as if he knew exactly why Kaiba was here. Kaiba was annoyed.

“Wait here, I’ll get him,” Yugi’s grandfather stated. He turned and shuffled from behind the counter, disappearing through a doorway that led to other parts of the home, while Kaiba resisted the urge to be offended that it was phrased as an order.

The teen’s eyes tracked across the shelves of the small store, reacquainting himself with the types of games the Mutou family sold. (The answer could best be described as “old ones.”) He was about to take a step toward something on a back shelf that looked like a human hand, curious despite himself, but movement from the doorway at the back brought his attention firmly back to his goals. Yugi stood in the doorway with an expression of confusion on his face. “Kaiba- _kun_?” he wondered.

“There’s a tournament this afternoon,” Kaiba said, without preamble.

Violet eyes blinked several times. He grasped Kaiba’s intentions before Kaiba lost patience and had to explain himself further. “Oh. Th-thank you for the invitation, Kaiba- _kun_ , but I–I don’t think-–”

“I need your opinion on something integral,” he said.

Yugi’s mouth gently closed on his fumbled objection. Seto Kaiba did not say he needed someone very often. And even less often did he ask for someone’s opinion.

A short time later, despite his many hesitations, Yugi found himself sliding onto the limo’s smooth leather seat and sat stiffly as Kaiba got in on the other side and the vehicle quietly pulled out into traffic. The CEO didn’t believe in small talk, and the limo didn’t have anything as mundane as a radio playing of course, so the trip was weighted by a heavy silence.

Twice Yugi took a soft breath to speak, but lost the nerve and lapsed back to quiet. Finally he squared his shoulders and inclined his head toward his host. “I didn’t bring my deck,” he said, soft but clear.

Kaiba snorted and didn’t reply, didn’t even look up from the phone message he was typing out, but Yugi was satisfied his message had gotten across.

When the limo came to a stop, Kaiba swept out the door without waiting. Yugi’s side of the vehicle faced the sidewalk and he slid out by the time Kaiba came around and began marching toward the building they had stopped in front of. The smaller teen started to follow but his footsteps faltered.

They were not in front of any tournament hall Yugi had ever seen.

The structure could have been an office building, square in structure, showing a simple receptionist area through the glass doors up ahead. The two people Yugi could see standing inside wore button-up shirts and ties, making Kaiba’s normal outfit and Yugi’s school uniform seem glaringly out of place. It all had a reserved, quiet air. Nothing like the atmosphere of a Duel Monsters arena and nothing like the usual flare of anything Seto Kaiba did. There was no banners or signs proclaiming the event, either, just a small placard hanging on the outer wall next to the front doors.

“It’s a national Go tournament,” Kaiba explained, as Yugi’s eyes scanned the placard for the start time.

Go was a traditional Japanese game, but Yugi didn’t play and he didn’t think Kaiba did either. In fact, he didn’t know anyone who did, personally, though it was a type of game his grandpa had probably enjoyed in the past. He liked games with cultural significance.

“I thought you meant a Duel Monsters tournament,” Yugi said quietly.

“When did I say that?” Kaiba demanded.

Yugi frowned and thought back to their conversation in the game shop, and realized he hadn’t. Curious, he followed Kaiba inside.


	13. Avoidance [Kaiba Bros]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which a certain CEO’s stupid boyfriend ends up in the hospital and said CEO is going to have a stupid freakout about it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one'll be a full-length fic later too.

_“Nii-sama!”_

Seto turned away from his computer, phone in hand, recognizing the note of fear in his brother’s tone as he burst into the office. As with all his emotions, Mokuba wore it openly on his face, eyes too large and mouth downturned, panting as if he had run the entire distance between the office and the elevators.

“Yugi texted me. Jounouchi collapsed!” Mokuba’s voice was high and frantic. “They took him to the hospital!”

Seto stared at Mokuba, frozen, for a full three seconds. Then, “Bradford, I apologize, I have to go.” He hung up the phone without listening to the other man’s reply, as Mokuba hurried across the office floor toward him. Seto grabbed his coat from its hook on the wall and they crossed together to the office’s private elevator, which went directly to the garage under the Kaiba Corp building.

“Did Yugi have details?” he demanded quietly, once he had unlocked the private elevator and they had gotten in. As he pulled out his cellphone to text a driver to be ready for them, he saw Yugi had sent him a similar text as well, and he had missed several calls from Mokuba. It was starting to become clear why Mokuba had shown up at KC when he was supposed to be at school.

Mokuba shook his head unhappily. He and Jounouchi had grown a lot closer since recent developments in Seto’s social life. Seto could see how close he was to panicking. “It has to be bad, right?” he muttered. “Jounouchi’s too tough for it to be anything small.”

Similar thoughts had already chased themselves around Seto’s head. For the sake of Mokuba’s well being, he said, “He probably worked himself to exhaustion. I’ll remind him of why that’s a bad idea when we get there.” He allowed his words to end on a growl, acceptable since it sounded more annoyed with the situation than anything close to an emotion like concern.

“I don’t think that’s it, _Nii-sama_ ,” Mokuba said in a little voice, unappeased.

They exited the elevator and Seto gave a nod to his driver, satisfied that the man had got his message and was ready for them. He opened the back door and the two brothers slid in, Mokuba practically making it a dive in his haste.

This was the bad part. The part where Seto had already applied his process, set things in motion, and now had to sit back and wait for results. There was no way to get to the hospital faster. If it had been feasible to walk there under his own power, he would have done so. Instead, he would sit here and his thoughts would circle pointlessly in tighter and tighter revolutions. Unacceptable.

Mokuba gazed out the window and fidgeted, a habit he did whenever he was upset which Seto had long since given up trying to talk him out of it.

“Sorry for interrupting your call,” the dark-haired boy muttered, glancing in Seto’s direction.

Seto flicked his hand dismissively. “You did me a favor. Bradford never shuts up about his horse racing project. He’s a good investor, but I needed an excuse to end early.”

Kaiba-like ire flashed across the younger male’s face momentarily. “You need to fire Ishidori. I tried calling the office when you wouldn’t answer your cell and he wouldn’t interrupt you. Said you were in an important meeting.”

Seto’s eyes narrowed. He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Done.”

This wasn’t his new secretary’s first slip up, and while the meeting _had_ been important, no one in Kaiba Corp refused Mokuba. Ever.

Mokuba looked satisfied momentarily, before his face fell and his eyes went to the window once more. Business concluded, the Kaiba brothers endured the rest of the ride in silence.

~ ~ ~

Seto hated hospitals. As much as he hated anything in life unworthy of his time or efforts. He had spent considerable time and energy avoiding them whenever possible. He had continued Gozaburo’s habit of having a private physician on call for illnesses and injuries at home. He sent Mokuba with Kaiba Corporation’s annual donations of games to local pediatric centers.

It was a weakness, he saw now, to avoid something so completely. Walking into the white, sterile environment bombarded him with mental images he wasn’t prepared for, memories he had beaten down so completely that he hadn’t faced them in years.

A four-year-old so small that it looked like the white hospital bed was swallowing him up.

His father’s voice: _“She’s gone, Seto. She’s not coming back. Do you understand?”_

_“Nii-sama…”_

Seto blinked back to the present and focused on his brother’s face, drawn and worried. He realized he had stopped walking as he entered the building, earning him his brother’s current expression. Silently he berated himself for giving Mokuba something else to worry about. With a derisive snort he pushed forward.


	14. Breakout [Yugi]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which I’ve fallen in love with the adorable AU Tumblr blog @ittybittydragons and had to write a little something for it_

Perhaps the dragons were sent to watch over Atem. Fierce protectors, assigned a mission from those who cared for him in the previous life. Perhaps the gods simply had a sense of humor.

Perhaps it was both.

Whatever the reason, Yugi could almost say he was used to it all at this point. Used to Gandora’s glowing jewels lighting up dark rooms at night, used to watching where he put his feet so he didn’t accidentally kick an inquisitive dragon underfoot, used to moving demanding reptiles off the counter to prepare dinner.

Waking up in the mornings, now, included a quick survey of the bed to see which small dragon had arranged itself around him in which position, and how much he would have to twist to slip out from under the covers without disturbing them. Often it was no use and the creatures woke anyway, immediately tumbled off the bed and followed him from the room, demanding breakfast in high voices.

This morning, however, he opened his eyes and found he was the only occupant in his bed. That should have been his first suspicion, really.

The second suspicion had the short duelist throwing the covers off and bolting upright, as the image directly in his line of sight finally sunk into his slowly waking mind. The window facing the bed had been left open to catch the summer evening breeze. And now the screen was gone.

Yugi obeyed his fist instinct and sped from the room, hurrying through his home, eyes darting around each room as he tried to locate his little charges. Surprisingly, Slifer was the first he found. The crimson dragon’s hind legs and tail were poking out from under the kitchen table, the sound of scrabling claws indicating he was chasing a dust bunny again. Hearing Yugi tromp into the room, he pulled his head back and chirped demandingly at his charge.

Yugi didn’t have time to address the dragon’s demands and instead continued searching. He found Gandora asleep in the living room, coiled in the soft tube of the cat tree the dragons had adopted as their own. Blue Eyes was likewise, curled up on the back of the easy chair. She uncoiled and leaped up all at once as Yugi ran in, and hissed her displeasure at being woken so abruptly. Yugi barely heard her. Three down, one to go.

He was about to knock on Atem’s bedroom door next, not wanting to wake the other duelist but getting desperate. A shrill screech from outside, however, decided his next course of action.

Wearing nothing but his blue pajama bottoms, Yugi bolted outside and onto the sidewalk. Thankfully it was still early, the sun not quite up above the horizon, painting the city in dim blue details. The sidewalk under his bare feet was still cool from the night. Yugi’s eyes darted up and sighted the open window of his bedroom, then tracked down and found the pushed-out screen on the sidewalk directly below, beside a leafy green bush. The bush was shaking and gave another angry screech. Yugi hurried over.

“Ra,” he breathed in relief, as the feathered dragon viciously attacked the offending branches for holding it in its clutches. Before Ra could work free and fly off, prompting Yugi to chase him down the sidewalk in his sleepwear, or just set the bush on fire, the duelist reached out and scooped the golden reptile out of the leaves. Bits of green and sharp twigs clung to the dragon’s feathers and scales. It opened its jaw and hissed at Yugi for his audacity.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, leaving the screen behind because it was more important to get Ra inside quickly and safely. He tried to soothe the ruffled feathers, putting up with the sharp talons sinking into the skin of his arms as he carried Ra back indoors. The dragon bit at his wrist for his efforts.

As soon as he was inside, Ra wiggled free and took up a position on the kitchen table, preening its feathers in a conscious manner that meant the entire morning had happened entirely as it intended. Slifer was still half under the kitchen table and peered out cautiously, avoiding Yugi’s eye contact, prompting Yugi to wonder if it was the trouble-making red dragon who had actually pushed out the screen and then left Ra be the one to investigate the new “opportunity.” Regardless of who was at fault, all four dragons were soon gathered in the kitchen, shrilly demanding their breakfast.

Yugi sighed and went to the fridge. One crisis averted, but it wouldn’t be the last of the day, for sure.


	15. Bonds of Blood [Kaiba Bros]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in which Vice-President Kaiba Seto is shocked to find out he has a younger brother [AU story where the Kaiba brothers weren’t adopted together and don’t remember each other]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one'll be a longer fic someday too! There will be angst.

When he was first told, he gave one short, sufficient laugh, because he thought his father was making another attempt at a joke. So far they had all been in poor taste, and this was no exception. But his father’s thin face didn’t break into a pinched smile or cough out a chuckle.

“You’re not joking.”

The calculating expression of the tall, broad-shouldered man behind the oak desk did not waver. “I was notified three days ago,” he said. Before Seto could fester any resentment about being excluded from this information for that long, Gozaburo added, “I sent out men immediately to confirm, and today they brought me the paperwork from the orphanage. It’s legitimate. You have a younger brother.”

Seto struggled to keep his face blank. There was still a chance this could be a test. A last attempt by his father to shake him to the core, ferret out any hidden weaknesses. Even if it were true, this would still be a test. His actions and his reactions were always watched, weighed, found wanting. Everything was a test. Life was a test.

By concentrating on the sound of the air filling and leaving his lungs, Seto regained his composure, and still cursed himself for the extra four seconds it took to do so. “What would you like me to do?” he asked the president, when he could trust his voice to remain flat and uncompromised.

His father didn’t voice his approval, but he looked satisfied. “First, there’s a member of upper management in your office. You know what to do. Then, I want you to go and see this family. Evaluate their intentions. Saruwatari is waiting with a car downstairs. After, report back to me.”

Seto raised his eyebrows. “Their intentions? Surely they could only have brought this to your attention now because you made the announcement of my new position last month. They’ve come forward to beg for scraps, just like anyone else.”

Gozaburo did not look pleased at this assessment. “Do I have to repeat myself?”

Seto’s mouth snapped shut, pressed in a firm line. He fought the sinking feeling somewhere between his throat and his stomach. “No, Father, of course not.” He bowed at the waist, turned on his heel, and left.

* ~ * ~ *

Firing Ishida- _san_ did not take long. Seto had taken care of this chore from his father so often that it was no longer noteworthy. The only delay was withstanding the man as he threw himself down, forehead pressed to the floor, as if his infantile begging would have any effect on the decision. Seto dismissed him, barely paying attention, his mind on other things.

He remained in the mental fog until his car pulled up in front of a tiny, worn home on the outskirts of Domino’s residential district. By the time he had arrived, Seto had almost decided this was some clerical error. Someone had filed a birth certificate in the wrong location. For the sake of his sanity, that had to be it.

Seto climbed out of the car without waiting for his driver to open the door for him. His eyes darted across the scene, analyzing. The roof needed patching. Weeds grew in the front yard, but the flowers in the window boxes were carefully tended.

“Good afternoon, Kaiba- _sama_.” The grandmotherly lady at the door dipped her gray head twice, once to him and once to the suited security guard standing at his shoulder. Her smile was wide and unconcerned; if she was nervous at his presence, she was a keen actress. “Please come in.”

_Quaint…_ Seto thought, trading his shoes for house slippers. Saruwatari stayed by the door, hands crossed at the wrist behind his back. The little home was traditional. Seto walked across tatami mats as he crossed the entryway and entered a narrow hallway, following the bent woman and repressing a flash of annoyance at having to slow his steps to match her shuffling pace.

The living room was more modern. The couch was threadbare with a floral print, a second-hand television on a desk across from it. Textbooks and two notebooks with various loose worksheets were scattered in a wave across the cream carpet, a backpack the source of the mess.

Seto stopped and stared at the figure on the couch.

The slippers hanging off the feet by just the toes were perhaps unsurprising, as the short legs kicked in a blatant gesture of nervousness. The jeans, ripped at both knees, were appalling. The long-sleeved shirt was garish, striped in unmatched colors of blue and orange. And who let their male child grow his hair to that length? Was he some half-feral thing raised by wolves? Seto hadn’t expected much in the way of manners, but he had expected a haircut, at least.

The little feral boy tipped his head up as the woman and Seto entered the room. A brief shake of his head tossed the loose black hair out of his eyes. There was nothing at all familiar about him to Seto, until he saw the cautious blue-gray eyes watching him. Even then, he wasn’t sure the feeling of _deja vu_ was tied to anything as concrete as a memory.

“Excuse me, Kaiba- _sama_. I’ll go make us all some tea,” murmured the lady, making her way out of the room.

Seto tried to ignore the way his heart rate increased in her absence. This was just a boy. One who couldn’t do anything to him. He struggled to cut the awkward silence in the room, but he didn’t know what topic of conversation would be appropriate for a young child. He habitually reviewed topics of conversation for his usual peers, the businessmen his father kept on the board. Politics, sports, the turn of the economy, overseas interest. But what did you talk to a little boy about?

Introductions first. He made a succinct bow. “I am Kaiba Seto.”

The boy just looked at him. Seto frowned. “What is your name?” he said, raising his voice a fraction and stressing each word.

The boy tipped his head and his forehead furrowed in annoyance. “Mokuba.” He turned away, and Seto got the distinct impression he had just been dismissed, as surely as when his father did the same thing. But the boy turned back a moment later, holding a small handheld device that had been tucked between the couch cushions. Judging by the flash of lights playing across his face and the jaunty music coming from the tiny speakers, it was some sort of electronic game.

Ah, a neutral topic of conversation. Seto felt safe in approaching by two footsteps. He stood next to the couch and looked down at the dark head of hair. “What are you playing?”

Mokuba looked up in surprise. “Mario Kart. Do you like games?”

Seto barely held in a snort. Vice-president of the largest defense contract company in Asia, a fan of video games? “I’m a Grandmaster of chess,” he allowed. Perhaps this was their common ground.

The skeptical look on the boy’s face faded. “Chess? I know how to play that. Wanna play sometime?”

Something moved in Seto’s mind. Not a memory, but a feeling. A feeling that playing a game of chess with a person like this might be… fun. Seto debated silently and then decided it was acceptable to gingerly take a seat on the edge of the couch cushion. “Perhaps,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I did it! 15 days of flash in a row! (Well I was a little late with this last one, but oh man I'm just so tired...) Now I'm gonna go sleep for a week.


End file.
